


maybe it's fate that we lose control

by kouzaires



Series: coffee spills and other mishaps [2]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Baking, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Selectively Mute Link, and irresponsible kitchen demeanor, because it's these two, really questionable decision-making
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:08:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24585862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kouzaires/pseuds/kouzaires
Summary: “You’re helping me bake.”Link passes Revali two small bowls and a tupperware. He takes them gingerly and stares down. The light from overhead is reflected back at him from the bowls, showing off the scratches in the metal with a matte shine.“Uh, what am I supposed to do with these?”-(Revali can’t actually bake, but Link doesn’t need to know that.)
Relationships: Link/Revali (Legend of Zelda)
Series: coffee spills and other mishaps [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1776034
Comments: 10
Kudos: 183





	maybe it's fate that we lose control

**Author's Note:**

> _Reading the first installment in this series isn't exactly necessary, but highly recommended so you understand this AU some more._
> 
> Title is from [“Ride Home” by Ben&Ben](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hcpmQFwCK5g), a band which you may not have heard of. It’s such a warm song, though, so give it a listen for fuzzy feelings if you'd like!
> 
> Beta credit goes to [sarcasticmudkip](https://sarcasticmudkip.tumblr.com/) again, who also gave me the prompt for this fic.
> 
> (Additional note: I am not mute and I don't know sign language, so please inform me if I made any mistakes! I decided not to use the typical sign language grammar here, so all of Link's words just are strung together in the way that Revali perceives. For names, proper nouns, or otherwise unfamiliar words, just assume he's spelling out the letters!)
> 
> CW: none that I know of, unless you count horrible kitchen practices  
> 

“Remind me again why I’m here?” Revali asks, leaning against _The Spring of Wisdom_ ’s kitchen cupboards with his arms crossed over the borrowed apron on his chest. His tone is only a little snide, which he considers a very notable achievement.

Link rolls his eyes at him and opens the refrigerator door. He pulls out a block of cream cheese, still unopened, and throws it at Revali’s face.

“Hey!” Revali sputters out, raising his hands up to catch the block clumsily. He sets it down on the granite counter with force, head swiveling to shoot his companion a heated glare.

 _“Because,”_ signs Link, completely unconcerned, _“I want to try a new brownie recipe for the shop.”_

Revali arches an eyebrow, a practice that he has come to master. “Don’t you already serve brownies?”

 _“Not like this.”_ Link slides over a piece of lined paper. Revali peers at it curiously, noting the recipe scribbled out on it for a batch of… _cream cheese_ brownies?

“I have never heard of this in my life,” Revali says bluntly.

_“Exactly! It’s something new.”_

Revali pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes turning skyward for guidance, as Link moves closer to him in order to fumble around the pantry. “And why didn’t you just ask Daruk for help? You know, the _actual_ baker who works here,” he stresses.

Link hands him a jar of cocoa powder and explains, _“He’s on leave. Why else would I have free reign of this kitchen?”_

As if to prove his point, he then reaches over Revali’s shoulder to get a carton of eggs from the shelf behind.

Revali lets out a long and heavy sigh, moving to help Link arrange the ingredients on the table. “Alright, _fine_ , but what about Zelda? Or Mipha, or even some other employee whom I’ve never met?”

At that, Link straightens, facing Revali in full. His eyes widen dramatically, accompanied by a deliberate pout. _“You’re complaining so much. Do you not want to spend time with your boyfriend?”_

 _Boyfriend_. The term makes Revali‘s cheeks heat up, and he looks away to try and hide his pleased smile. “I do. Sorry,” he mutters off to the side, but Link hears him anyway judging by the bright grin that quickly replaces his kicked-puppy look.

 _“Besides, you can’t tell me you don’t have any kitchen experience,”_ Link adds, eyeing him with a little smirk. _“Oh, great soup chef.”_

Revali knows exactly what Link is doing, provoking him like that. He takes the challenge anyway.

“For your information,” he says pointedly, one finger pointed at Link in accusation. “That soup—which by the way, I remember you enjoyed _quite_ a lot—is one of many great recipes that I am able to recreate.”

 _“Then it’s settled! You’re helping me bake,”_ Link signs, before passing him two small bowls and a tupperware. Revali takes them gingerly and stares down. The light from overhead is reflected back at him from the bowls, showing off the scratches in the metal with a matte shine.

“Uh, what am I supposed to do with these?”

Link points a finger down at the recipe paper, right over the first line of instructions which clearly reads: _Separate two eggs_.

 _“One bowl per egg white, and put the yolks in the container so we can keep them in the fridge. I’ll go preheat the oven and look for the measuring cups first,”_ he signs, before turning and striding to the other end of the kitchen.

Revali blinks, and looks back down at his bowls. He places them down on the counter, directing his attention towards the carton of fresh eggs on the side.

“Okay, then,” he murmurs, snapping open the carton. Six large, white eggs stare back at him, pristine and unblemished. He takes one out, weighing it carefully in his palm and noting its cool surface.

 _You have made countless egg dishes,_ he reminds himself firmly. _Surely, you can manage this much._

With a flourish, he cracks the egg open in a one-handed motion, dropping its contents into one of the bowls and discarding the eggshell on the counter. And then he stares.

“Hey, Link,” he calls out, swiveling his head to the side. “How does this work?”

Link, crouched down before the oven and in the middle of fiddling with its settings, looks up. Revali turns the bowl to show him the single egg swimming around inside of it, and Link just signs, _“Spoon,”_ before turning away again.

Okay then.

A minute later, he’s back at his station, wielding a large spoon in one hand like a weapon. He uses one hand to tilt the metal bowl forward, and jabs his spoon down. It cuts through the white of the egg in a smooth motion. He maneuvers around a little in order to scoop up the yolk properly, and pulls the spoon back up.

The yolk slides down, slimy and uncooperative.

He turns when he feels a tug on his sleeve, eye still twitching with irritation.

 _“You know,”_ Link signs, cheeky as always. _“Normally, people separate eggs using the shell. Before dropping them in the bowl.”_

“I knew that,” Revali tells him, as calmly as he can manage when this _goddess damned egg_ keeps mocking him with its gooey perfection, sitting innocently at the bottom of the bowl.

_“Are you sure you don’t want me to handle it?”_

Revali shakes his head, turning back to the counter. “I can do this,” he insists. He spoons the egg one more time, with a little more strength than necessary.

“See,” he says, facing Link with narrowed eyes.

Link presses his lips together in a vain attempt to hide a smile, pointing at the bowl. Revali looks back down and yelps. The yolk has broken, and streaks of yellow swirl into the egg white, ruining its consistency.

“This cannot be happening,” Revali deadpans, regarding his bowl with dismay.

Link snickers beside him and gently pushes the bowl away from his hands. _“Okay, how about you just start mixing the other ingredients? I’ll take care of this mess.”_

Revali frowns but doesn’t argue. He moves toward the stand mixer that Link has placed beside them, lifting up the recipe page to scan it again.

 _Beat the butter and sugar_. It sounds simple enough, he supposes. He can do that much.

Revali unceremoniously dumps the required tablespoons of softened butter into the mixing bowl, and then measures out the sugar. Once he’s done, he brings down the mixer attachment and sets the machine on its highest setting.

The mixer whirrs, making loud noises as it hits the side of the bowl dangerously. Almost immediately, Link rushes over to turn it off.

 _“You know you have to start with the lowest setting, right?”_ he signs, a knowing look on his face.

“Yeah, yeah. Not to worry, it’s all under control. My hand just slipped,” Revali says. Link side-eyes him but eventually decides to let it go, turning back to his eggs.

This time, Revali turns the machine on low, and it begins to slowly churn its way through the ingredients. He watches it, frowning slightly. “Is it supposed to be this dry?” he calls out over the noise. Link peers over at the bowl and nods, so Revali shrugs it off. Once the butter and sugar appear suitably combined, he turns off the mixer.

“Okay,” he says, looking back at Link. “Now what?”

Link hands him one of the separated egg whites along with a whole egg. Revali looks back at the recipe and reads: _Add in the whole egg, one egg white, and vanilla_.

“Wait, so what was the point of separating the eggs?” he blurts out, brow knitting in confusion.

Link shrugs. _“Beats me. We’re just following the instructions.”_

Sighing, Revali dutifully pours in the egg white and cracks the whole egg into the bowl. He turns the mixer back on, noting with satisfaction that the wet ingredients have made the mixture significantly easier to handle. He measures out a few teaspoons of vanilla extract and adds that in too.

After a while, Link hands him two small cups, containing pre-measured amounts of flour and cocoa powder. Revali takes them and, while the machine is still working, dumps both cups into the bowl.

Link only has enough time to jerk Revali’s arm back before a cloud of powdery white and brown erupts before their faces.

“Ah!” Revali yelps, and then begins coughing into his sleeve as he accidentally inhales some of it.

 _“Turn it off!”_ Link signs in stilted motions, simultaneously trying to cover his face from the powder.

Revali rushes over to the machine and raises the mixer in a swift motion.

He only has a split-second to regret his decisions in life before the still turning mixer splatters brownie batter all over the place. He flinches, squeezing his eyes shut as he feels it hit his face, and arms, and _all over_ his apron.

With one hand still on the machine, he blindly fumbles around until he’s able to find the distinctive shape of the off button. The mixer whirs to a halt, and that dying sound is music to Revali’s ears.

There’s a beat of silence. Revali cracks his eyes open and grimaces as he takes in the state of the counters and cupboards, all splattered with streaks of batter, the whole lumps of dark cocoa powder stark against its light color. He turns to look at Link, who stares back with an equally bewildered expression on his face.

And then Link snorts, bursting out into a full-bellied laugh that rings throughout the kitchen. He clutches at his stomach, grinning wildly.

“Stop laughing at me!” Revali whines, making a futile attempt to stop the rapid reddening of his cheeks.

Link takes one look at him, blinks very slowly, and absolutely loses it again.

Revali bites his lip, trying to maintain his displeased frown, but the corners of his lips twitch with barely repressed amusement. “I’m serious,” he insists, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.

After a while, Link begins to calm down, still wheezing slightly. “What even was that?” he asks, grinning up at Revali as he wipes away a tear from his eye.

Revali lets out a tired sigh, brushing away some cocoa powder on his arm. “Would you believe me if I told you that flour clouds and splatters are advanced baking techniques?”

Link gives him a look that’s entirely too judging. _“No,”_ he signs, blunt and straight-faced. _“Even I never screwed up that badly.”_

“You could say it was a… rookie mistake.”

Link’s eyes narrow in suspicion, appraising Revali with a critical eye. _“You’ve cooked before. I wouldn’t call you a rookie.”_

“Yes, well.” Revali clears his throat, eyes darting in every direction. “I may not… actually know how to bake, per se.”

 _“What?”_ Link blinks, tilting his head slightly. _“But you can cook, right?”_

“Yes, and that’s entirely different from baking!” Revali glowers, crossing his arms over his chest. It probably doesn’t have the effect he’s after, given his current appearance.

Link stares at him, disbelief etched onto his face. _“Are you serious?”_

“Normal cooking can stand a few… imprecisions,” Revali tries to defend. “With baking, anything can go wrong!”

Link snickers, eyeing him up and down and signing, _“I can see that.”_

Revali lets out a huff and turns away, refusing to reply. After a moment, Link lays a hand on his arm, forcing Revali to look back at him.

 _“Why didn’t you just say so in the first place?”_ Link asks, eyes soft and understanding.

“Well,” hedges Revali, ducking his head. “Perhaps I wasn't too comfortable admitting that I…” he trails off, letting it hang in the air between them.

_“That you what?”_

“That I couldn’t do something as simple as _baking_ , of all things,” Revali spits out quickly, like the words are poison in his mouth.

Link’s eyebrows raise, and his mouth parts open slightly. _“It’s alright to not be good at everything, you know.”_

Revali pulls a face, mouth twisting into a sneer.

Rolling his eyes, Link adds, _“Seriously though, I wasn’t going to judge you for it.”_

“Still,” Revali insists, “It’s just not befitting someone like me.”

_“A pompous asshole with crippling narcissism?”_

Revali shoots him a withering glare. “Well, _excuse me_ for not wanting to look like a fool here.”

 _“We’re the only ones in this room!”_ Link signs, his motions jerky with frustration. _“Who are you trying to—”_ And then he stops abruptly, hands paused in mid-air. He brings a hand to his chin, giving Revali a thoughtful stare.

Warily, Revali asks, “What’s that look for?”

A slow smirk creeps up Link’s face, and he raises his arms back up to sign, _“You wanted to impress me didn’t you?”_

Revali reddens considerably, waving his arms in front of himself. “Absolutely not!”

Link’s smirk turns into a full, toothy smile. _“You did! You’re such a dork!”_

Revali groans, dragging one hand across his face as he leans back against the countertop. “It’s just… you were really excited about baking with me.” He turns to look at Link properly, and sees the question in his eyes. “I didn’t want to spoil your fun.”

Link’s eyes sparkle, and his smile drops into something deeper and more subdued. _“That’s really sweet of you.”_

“Look where that got us, though,” Revali grumbles, looking away.

He starts as he feels the soft press of lips against his cheek, warm and feather-light to the touch. By the time his brain has stopped short-circuiting, Link is already leaning back.

“Huh?” Revali breathes out, clutching at the side of his face and staring at Link with wide, unblinking eyes.

Link beams up at him, a light flush dusting his cheeks. _“It’s the thought that counts._ ”

Hesitantly, Revali smiles back.

 _“What do you say we finish these brownies?”_ Link continues. _“Properly, this time.”_

“…Only if you help me through it.”

Link’s eyes brighten, and he reaches for the recipe page wordlessly.

They work together to mix up the batter and the cream cheese layer, adding ingredients gradually to avoid any major surprises like the last time.

Revali gets tasked with lining the baking tray with parchment paper and greasing it with cooking spray, and he can’t even muster enough pride to deny that he’s grateful for such a mundane job. Link pours out everything into the tray, scraping out the sides of the bowl with a rubber spatula. He uses a knife to swirl the globs of cream cheese into intricate designs, and then steps back to admire the near-finished product.

 _“Set the time for 25 minutes,”_ he signs, before shoving the tray into the oven. Revali obeys, jabbing buttons on the digital timer that he may or may not have just stolen from one of the kitchen drawers.

Then, he looks up in wonder and says, “We actually did it.”

Link straightens up, pulling off the oven mitt on his hand. _“That just means we make a great team,”_ he replies. He gives Revali a familiar lopsided grin, holding one palm up for a high-five. Revali does so, and the sound reverberates through the room.

“Even if this batch turns out awful, I’m glad to be done,” Revali muses, slumping his shoulders. He realizes, suddenly, how exhausted he feels. His forehead has gotten damp with sweat, and the back of his shirt clings uncomfortably against his skin.

Link nods, resting back against a cupboard. His hair had gone into disarray somewhere down the line, and he brushes back a few strands that hang loosely around his face, having escaped his low ponytail.

They remain like that for a while, steadying their breaths after all the excitement. 

Link is the first to break the peace. _“Now what?”_ he asks, looking up at Revali. _“We have almost half an hour to burn.”_

“Now,” Revali replies, slipping into an easy smirk. “I think you should wipe that little something there.” He gestures vaguely at Link’s face, and watches with amusement as the other boy makes large swipes across his cheeks.

_“Did I get it?”_

Revali’s smirk only grows. “Not quite.”

In one smooth motion, he dips down and presses a kiss to the corner of Link’s mouth. His tongue darts out swiftly, licking at a smear of brownie batter on Link’s face, and Revali notes with more than a little satisfaction that Link seems to shudder at the contact.

He pulls away all too soon, smacking his lips together loudly. “Mmm, sweet,” he comments, staring down at Link’s deer-in-the-headlights expression.

Link opens his mouth and then closes it again, his face burning all the way to the tips of his ears.

“What?” asks Revali innocently. His cheeks are heating up as well, but any embarrassment he might have felt is pushed aside by the beautiful sight his boyfriend makes like this, beet-red and flustered because of _him_.

Link narrows his gaze and then relaxes, donning his own sly smile. _“Are you sure you got everything?”_ he questions, eyes glittering under the lights.

Revali decides that he very much enjoys baking now. “Only one way to make sure.”

They almost don’t notice when Revali’s timer goes off, pulling away from each other with twin groans of disappointment.

“These brownies better be the best fucking thing in the world,” Revali mumbles, reaching out a hand to shut off the incessant beeping.

Link chuckles, sliding on his oven mitts. Just as he pulls open the oven door, a sweet aroma escapes, filling the room with the scent of freshly-baked sweets. Revali’s mouth waters suddenly, and he can’t quite remember the last time he even ate.

With careful motions, Link takes out the pan and sets it down on a trivet, so as not to burn the counter. He and Revali peer hungrily into the brownie sheet before them, the swirls of cream cheese only adding to its delectable appearance.

 _“Well,”_ signs Link, once his hands are free, _“Technically, we’re supposed to let it cool before eating.”_

“When have rules ever stopped us?” Revali asks, one hand inching closer to the pan. He hesitantly pokes the surface and then draws back his finger, cursing slightly at the heat.

Link grins, already moving to open a cupboard. He pulls out plates and forks for the both of them, as well as a large knife.

Revali watches eagerly as he cuts through the brownie, bits of fudge still sticking to the blade. The brownies are still crumbly when Link plates them, but neither he nor Revali is particularly concerned about that right now. Link hands over Revali’s plate, and they share a single, excited look before digging in.

With his fork in one hand, Revali scoops up a generous portion of brownie from his own plate. He blows on it lightly, and then takes a bite.

_Fucking hell._

“‘Issho gud,” he groans in bliss, the words distorted by the food in his mouth. The cake-like texture of the brownie is like heaven on his tongue, with just the right amount of fudginess to be satisfying. Even more, the cream cheese balances the chocolate further, adding a certain lightness to the dessert.

Link only lets go of his fork long enough to sign, _“I could eat the whole pan,”_ before diving back into his dish.

Revali can only nod, a vicious motion that’s somehow subdued by the swell of his cheeks, still stuffed with brownie. They finish their helpings in record time, and Revali regards the few crumbs on his plate with a happy sigh.

 _“Daruk said he just modified his existing brownie recipe, but wow,”_ Link signs, looking at the remaining brownies on the tray like they’re pieces of ambrosia from the goddess herself.

“I’m ruined for every other brownie in existence,” Revali says with a happy sigh, patting his stomach slightly as he leans against the countertop behind him.

 _“So…”_ Link begins suddenly, biting his lip. _“We should probably save these for the others to try, huh?”_

Revali frowns. “Yes, we probably should.”

Link nods solemnly. _“It’s the right thing to do.”_

“Indeed it is,” says Revali, blinking slowly. “We would be absolutely terrible human beings if we ate them all.”

 _“So terrible,”_ replies Link.

The two of them turn back to the tray almost mechanically. There’s a pause, both boys glancing at each other from the corners of their eyes, and then—

“How many pieces do you want?” Revali asks, holding the knife.

Link pushes it out of his hands and pulls the entire tray closer. He takes his fork and begins eating the brownies straight from the pan, still steaming slightly.

Revali grins. “I like the way you think.”

There’s still drying batter all over their clothes, and the kitchen itself is coated in scattered ingredients, streaks of white and brown powder all over the countertops. Even the other equipment that they used sit near the sink, uncleaned. None of that matters, though, when they have a perfectly good tray of brownies before them and even better company.

And if Zelda catches them later, squabbling over the final brownie and butter knives in hand, well… that's another matter entirely.

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write more soft things, let's be real. If you're curious, the brownie recipe I'm talking about can be found [here](https://www.tasteofhome.com/recipes/cream-cheese-swirl-brownies/). I sold those brownies to my classmates a few months back and got a massively positive response, so I can safely say they're pretty good.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading!
> 
> If you have anything you'd like to see in this series (or just want to talk at all), feel free to chat with me on [Tumblr](https://kouzaires.tumblr.com/)! You can also follow my [coffeeverse au tag](https://kouzaires.tumblr.com/tagged/coffeeverse-au) over there for updates on this series in general.  
>    
> 


End file.
